Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
“Man. You guys are takin’ away all my fun today.” Wylde leaned against the door frame to his office and blew a bubble with the gun he chewed. Then he grinned again, obviously not intimidated in any way.
Cyrus got to his feet and reached down a hand to my brother. Donovan looked at it for several seconds before taking it and letting Cyrus help him to his feet.
“Gonna have to keep an eye on that one, Odette. He’s slippery.”
I grinned. “He is. But he’s wonderful, Donovan. He’s been really good to me.”
“I take it you’re learning how he works? He’s a little difficult to take sometimes.”
“We’ve had some bumps in the road, but I know he cares for me.”
Donovan’s features hardened again as he snapped his gaze to Cyrus. “You care for her.”
Cyrus didn’t flinch. “I do. Very much.”
“Do you love her?” Donovan raised an eyebrow. I could see the anger simmering beneath the surface of his civility. He’d calmed down, but the potential for this to go back to blows was still there.
There was a long silence. Cyrus’s face was a hard mask now as he looked at my brother. Now, it was Cyrus who was angry. But why?
“You know I don’t deal well with emotions, Blade. You were the one who helped me figure out why my moods were so erratic and anything out of my routine fucked with my head. I could tell you I love her, but I’m not certain I actually know what love is.” He shook his head, that first gesture I noticed from him when he was unsure of himself. Like he was having an internal argument and not altogether sure he was winning. “What is love, Blade? You ask me if I love her, but what is it? I’ve heard people say they love ice cream, or steak. Is that the same as loving a person?”
“You know it’s not, Cyrus,” Donovan snapped. “Don’t fuck with me on this. Do. You. Love. Odette.”
Cyrus turned to me. “Odette, I never want to lie to you. Not about anything.”
I smiled at him. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Cyrus. You show me your feelings with the way you take care of me. You may not get it, but I do. I’d much rather feel your love for me than have you say it.”
That must have been the exact right thing to say. Cyrus visibly relaxed, then pulled me into his arms and hugged me tightly.
“Not lettin’ you go, lil’ bit. Not ever.”
“I’m not letting you go either.”
“Uh, in case anyone wants to know…” Wylde waved his hand to get our attention. He was still blowing bubbles while he leaned against the door frame. “One Steve Gleeson is on his way here.”
“What?” My stomach dropped.
“Yeah. You know the dude’s loaded? I extended an invite to see the sights of Evansville, but he declined. Unfortunately, when his limo picked him up at his side piece’s house, Clutch was driving. He wasn’t too keen on sightseeing on the way here from West Palm Beach. Clutch said he preferred to ride in the trunk where he didn’t have to look out the windows.”
Chapter Nine
Cyrus
Iron Tzars owned several properties in and around the Evansville area. Or rather, there were properties owned by people who only existed on paper. Wylde was a genius with shit like that. Nothing could be traced back to the club or any of her members or anyone we associated with. Shit happened on those properties sometimes. Several people we’d had to deal with in the barn had ended up there. Usually in a sinkhole or in pieces next to a pig farm where the bodies would never be found. ‘Cause they were eaten. You know. By the pigs. Clutch took the esteemed Mr. Gleeson and his fancy-ass limo to one such property. What happened next would depend entirely on that bastard Gleeson.
We pulled up to the copse of trees where Clutch had driven the limo. The road leading to the property was private for several miles in one of the most rural areas of the state. Even though it was nearly impossible anyone saw us drive into the area, none of us were on our bikes. Instead, I drove myself, Odette, and Blade in an old Bronco while Brick and Wylde led the way in an equally old F-150.
“I still may have to kill you, Cyrus,” Blade said conversationally. “I’m pretty sure it’s in the big brother code of conduct.”
“You won’t.” I wanted to smirk but refrained. I’d gotten one over on Blade and the other man was stewing. He’d get over it. Especially if I could prove to him I could keep Odette happy.
“Don’t bet your life on it.”
“Is that supposed to be a pun, Blade? ‘Cause it’s a really shitty one.” That shut the bastard up, though I saw him rolling his eyes when I glanced in the rearview mirror.